An Unlikely Quartet
by marauderX
Summary: The quartet stand as followed: Ravenclaw, Slytherin, Gryffindor, and Hufflepuff. A Lady, a duke, a soldier, and a maid. This is the story of how they created something magical.
1. Eavesdropping

Lady Rowena Ravenclaw of Cornwall frowned as Lord Geoffrey Bennett of Kent continued his rant about muggles at the end of the table. It was no secret that Lord Bennett was not a fan of the non-magical folk, but Lady Rowena was not in favour of those who put down the weak to further their own power.

And Lord Bennett was nothing but one of those people. Power hungry and merciless, Lord Bennett was known to many as the least appealing suitor a lady could wish for. He enjoyed courting women of higher class or fortune than he, though his long dark hair, his sick-looking, olive-coloured skin, and his unyielding black eyes did nothing to persuade these women of his worth, not to mention the rumours that surrounded him.

Though Lord Bennett preached that muggles were unworthy of even socializing with wizards, there certainly was an alarming number of muggle girls that had seen entirely too much of him without actually wanting to witness such things. Lady Rowena surveyed Lord Bennett as he continued his tirade. He certainly wasn't attractive, although she knew many women of questionable values who threw themselves at him without achieving results.

Of course, there did seem to be something hidden behind that sneer; a sort of coldness that emanated from him in possibly every aspect of his life. Yet Lord Bennett insisted on pursuing women of taste and money who had no interest in him and, if the courtship didn't yield results, would find a young muggle girl to satisfy his desires. Lady Rowena saw the way his mouth curled up at the edges, the furrowing in his brow, the sunkenness of his eyes – the signs of a man gone wrong.

No, Lady Rowena was not fond of Lord Bennett. Even now as he spoke, spittle flew from his mouth and he seemed enraged with the idea of one of the muggles in a nearby village: a school where both muggle children and wizard children could go, to learn both magic and trades. Lady Rowena herself couldn't see a problem with that. To her it seemed intelligent to bring the children together in hopes of decimating the superior mindset of those like Lord Bennett. But of course, Lord Bennett wouldn't see it that way.

As Lady Rowena rolled her eyes – a habit that Lady Marie Ravenclaw couldn't stand – she caught the gaze of Duke Salazar Slytherin of Edinburg, who was sitting next to the ever-ranting Lord Bennett. He smiled at her and mimed tipping a hat. Lady Rowena felt her cheeks flush and smiled shyly at him. Duke Slytherin, quite unlike Lord Bennett, was extremely attractive and, though Lady Rowena did not want to admit it to anyone, much less herself, she wouldn't mind having a man like him as a suitor.

Granted, he was already betrothed (though to whom was a well-kept secret), but Lady Rowena did not let this keep her from admiring him from across the table. Duke Slytherin subtly jerked his head towards Lord Bennett beside him and rolled his eyes. Lady Rowena stifled a giggle and smiled sheepishly at Earl Francis Bourgeois of Essex of who gave her a stern glance.

Finally, Lord Bennett finished his long-winded speech and waited as few people at the table actually applauded him. Looking severely disgruntled, he excused himself from the table and stormed out of the room, muttering about 'muggle-loving blood traitors' or some other nonsense that Lady Rowena could not hear over the chattering of Countess Bourgeois and Madame LaFrance.

A small moment of silence passed over the wizards and witches at the table, an uncomfortable deficiency of noise settling around the small room. The lords, ladies, dukes, duchesses, earl, countesses, princes, and princesses of the table sat properly and made not a noise as movement seemingly ceased. Then, as Duke Slytherin stood up, all eyes turned to him.

"I apologize, sirs and ladies, but if nothing of importance is to be discussed at this meeting, I must be off." He smiled his charming smile and tipped his head. "Important matters, of course. I would not leave any of you if it wasn't so. I shall see you next week at our next meeting of the round table."

With that, Duke Slytherin gave another tip of his head and gracefully walked out, but not before giving Lady Rowena a meaningful look. She looked around hurriedly and stood up herself, her chair screeching back against the stone floor. All eyes turned to her and she blushed profusely.

"I must excuse myself as well, your graces. Pressing matters with my mother, you see," she said and basked in the groans echoed around the table. Lady Marie Ravenclaw of Bretagne was not favorable to the many she was acquainted with. "I shall return in a fortnight, as I will be attending a wedding. Please, do not wait for my return."

Earl Francis was the only one who smiled at her, his crooked grin missing quite a few teeth. "Of course, Lady Rowena. We shall await your presence in a fortnight impatiently."

Rowena shivered as the older man leered at her. Earl Bourgeois had never been in her good books, but he was a good ally and it was advantageous to her family to keep him around.

"Oh, how charming, Earl Francis. I shall await our next encounter impatiently myself."

With a foolish giggle and an almost imperceptible eye roll at the Countess Bourgeois, Lady Rowena floated out of the room, her skirts brushing against the hard stones. As the guards opened the door for her and she stepped out into the hallway, she glanced around, catching the back of Duke Slytherin's cloak as he turned around a corridor.

Hurrying after him, her small heels clicking against the floor, Lady Rowena finally turned around the corner to see a small corridor that ended with a window. She glanced around in confusion, settling on opening the two doors on either side of the miniscule hallway. She tried the one to her left first but it was locked. When she tried the second, the knob turned, but it only led to a broom cupboard.

Lady Rowena walked over to the window, wondering if perhaps Duke Slytherin had jumped out of it, but the handsome man was nowhere to be seen. Giving a sigh of defeat, Lady Rowena leaned against the window frame, her left hand running up and down the stones, gently caressing the mortar that kept them together. Suddenly, her hand hit something that was neither stone nor mortar. She studied it curiously before stifling a gasp.

It was a small lever, almost imperceptibly but at this particular angle. Biting her lip, the question of whether or not to pull the lever racing through her mind, Lady Rowena made her decision.

After all, she thought, nothing that bad could be hidden in the Humble Bumblebee. It would be preposterous for an inn to keep dangerous things lying around.

Taking a deep breath, Lady Rowena pulled the lever. With a creak, a hidden door popped open to her left and she started. Trying to regulate her breath again, Lady Rowena slowly crept towards the door, stifling a sharp gasp as voices could be heard.

"The muggles and the other royal wizards don't want this school to happen. I'm frightened that riots will crop up and demands for these plans to be forgotten will be made," a soft voice said. Lady Rowena tried to place the voice but couldn't quite recognize the pitch. "We need to find an alternative. The muggles won't allow wizard children to be placed in their own school, and they are too scared to let them into muggle schools. Then there are some wizards who won't allow their children to go to muggle school less they be 'contaminated.'"

"The world has gone to madness, Maid Helga. Do not be surprised. Your gentle nature makes you surprised at the most miniscule things, my dear, and you must kept a stone face lest we be wed."

Lady Rowena pursed her lips at the silky voice that threaded its way into the small corridor. Duke Slytherin's voice was enough to persuade you to shivers even without looking at you. The woman he was addressing was foreign to Lady Rowena, a name she had never come across. This was not very strange, in fact, as ladies hardly socialized with maids unless they were personal maids. As Lady Rowena moved closer to the hidden door so as to hear better, a strange feeling passed over her.

"Excuse me, Salazar, but there is someone who has found the door. It seems our conversation has been compromised."

Lady Rowena stayed paralyzed as the hidden door opened further and a young man appeared. His blonde hair went to his shoulders and was styled beautifully, framing eyes that were as blue as the sky. Lady Rowena sucked in a breath at the familiarity of the man at hand. Godric Gryffindor was a well-known soldier under Duke Slytherin's care, with a reputation to ward off the more reputable ladies while drawing in girls of ruin.

It was rumoured that Duke Slytherin had attempted to take him out of the public's eye after an altercation between Gryffindor and the fiancée of the Crown Prince of France – an altercation that was intimate in nature and caused a falling out between Duke Slytherin and the Crown Prince.

But he seemed harsher than he was usually made out to be, and his eyes flashed dangerously as he grasped one of Lady Rowena's arms and pulled her inside the hidden room before she had time to scream out. Lady Rowena felt one of her heels catch on her full blue skirts and went flying forward. Barely managing to throw out her hands and catch herself in time, Lady Rowena growled and drew herself up, glaring at Gryffindor.

"How dare you!" she bellowed, taking a step towards him. "Do you not know who I am?"

An easy smile spread across Gryffindor's bearded face. "Lady Ravenclaw. How delightful to finally meet you. I've heard many things about you and your… mother."

Lady Rowena felt her cheeks flush and took another few steps towards the smirking man until their chests were nearly pressed together. "My mother is an amazing woman. Don't you dare talk about her as if she was as common as you, you untitled barbarian!"

"Did I offend you, daughter of the King's whore?" Gryffindor replied, sneering down at the livid brunette in front of him.

Lady Rowena felt her cheeks flare even more and bit her tongue to avoid saying particularly nasty and unladylike things. She took a deep breath and stepped back, turning to Duke Slytherin. He seemed surprised at the exchange between his soldier and Lady Rowena and suddenly Lady Rowena felt terrible.

"I apologize, Duke Slytherin, for being so brash. It seems as if control over my temper is not one of my expertise," she said, curtseying quickly. "I apologize also for listening in on such a private conversation. If you may, I will be on my way and I promise to forget that this ever happened."

Duke Slytherin took a step forward and gave Lady Rowena a sad smile. "I, in turn, apologize for the conduct of my soldier, Lady Rowena. But, if you are willing, I would like to ask you a few questions regarding the plan you have just overheard. Your mother is known throughout England as an exceptionally bright and intelligent witch – unsurprising given her status as one of the King's advisors –" at those words he gave Gryffindor a warning glance just as the blond man seemed ready to say more vulgar things, "and as her daughter I would think you would be just as exceptionally wise. Tell me, what do you think of the plan? What alternative would aid in keeping the divide between muggles and wizards from increasing?"

Lady Rowena smiled at the handsome man and smoothed out her sapphire skirts. "Honestly, Duke Slytherin, what you need is a school for wizards, somewhere no muggle can find it. My mother has been corresponding with me from the English court and she reckons that the divide cannot be stopped. It will happen and she intends to prepare for it. You best as well."

Gryffindor scowled and walked over to a table Rowena hadn't noticed before. A young woman sat there, her clothes not that of a reputable young lady but more life that of a kitchen girl. If this was indeed Helga, Duke Slytherin was the fiancee a mere kitchen maid, and although that explained the reason for secrecy, Lady Rowena knew that she would figure out the details of the relationship between the two and pass it on to her mother.

Lady Rowena knew that a liaison to the English court was intent on why Duke Slytherin refused the opportunity to marry the King's niece, and ever since rumours of the elder Lady Ravenclaw becoming the King's newest mistress began, the English Queen was not overly fond of her. Valuable information such as that could keep Lady Rowena's head attached to her body. This young woman stood up and curtsied almost imperceptibly before opening her mouth.

"While I may, Lady Ravenclaw," she started, glancing every so often at Duke Slytherin, "the idea is a good one, but as to where to host this school would be a problem."

"Construct it in London," Gryffindor interrupted. "Or use Slytherin Manor if you must. But this idea is folly. Just because she is a Ravenclaw you will heed her advisories?"

Duke Slytherin turned to his soldier, his dark eyes flashing. Lady Rowena almost felt bad for Gryffindor as he sank back from the Duke's powerful gaze, but remembered his earlier treatment of her.

"Godric, I will heed her advisories because I believe Lady Rowena to be one of the most intelligent people I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. And Helga's idea was splendid. Make preparations," Duke Slytherin boasted, his frown suddenly turning into a smile, "we will begin planning this school tomorrow."

As he three began to talk of what they would need to do, Lady Rowena felt uneasy. She knew that tensions between the muggles and the magical folk were increasing, and bringing a high number of young wizards and witches would only be the downfall of wizarding society.

"Wait!" she finally cried, relishing in the silence that followed as Duke Slytherin, Gryffindor, and Helga turned to stare at her in disbelief. "This is the city where men are mended.* London, I mean. That is where Slytherin Manor is, is it not?" Duke Slytherin nodded and she continued. "Apothecaries, healers, shamans. Every type of magical mending you can think of lives within London. If we bring a school of magic to the city, muggles will notice. Bring not the young ones there. To execute this – if you even want to – you must do it somewhere no muggle would suspect."

Blank faces stared at her, waiting for her next words. Lady Rowena sighed.

"Scotland. Tensions between the muggles and wizards are high as ever there. Enough protective enchantments wound about a deserted field and we could build a castle worth teaching young magic folk in." Lady Rowena took a breath. "Many wizards and witches have fled Scottish territory, so to try and implement schooling there would seem unreasonable to anyone. Build a school in Scotland and I promise you, you will survive."

Duke Slytherin seemed ecstatic as he walked over to Lady Rowena and took her hand. "I will never know how you managed to figure all of this out so fast, my dear Lady, but I assure you that you will be forever in our gratitude."

Lady Rowena smiled and curtsied. "Thank you, dear Duke. Now I must be off. Knowing my luck, one hundred and ten muggles are outside my castle windows, expecting me to heal their wounds." She looked over and Helga and Gryffindor and curtsied again, although the gesture was strictly casual. "Perhaps we will meet again, but I do hope not. I prefer to stay out of such dangerous affairs," she explained. "Good night, and long live the King."

Echoes of 'long live the king,' were hurriedly spoken to her as she took out her wand and dissapparated away. As her feet touched the harsh stone flooring of her own castle, Lady Rowena heard the moans of people dying for her to cure them. Yes, if it was one thing Lady Rowena needed, it was a school for magic. The more wizards and witches adept at healing wounds, the more time she would have to herself.

-

A.N. *This quote is Sylvia Plath's, not mine, from her poem 'The Stones'!*


	2. Knockturn Alley

"Give her three drops of this potion, twice a day, for three weeks," Rowena said, pulling a small vial filled with a shiny blue liquid out of her cloak pocket. "Your daughter's pox should be cleared in a month."

The grimy woman before her smiled gratefully and nearly snatched the tiny vial out of Rowena's hand. "Dear lady," she whispered roughly, "I cannot thank you nearly enough, nor can I ever repay what this potion must cost."

Rowena pulled the hood of her plain brown cloak over her dark hair, took the woman's hand, and patted it comfortingly. "'Tis a gift, my dear. I do not expect any compensation. But if little Anna needs anything else, owl me immediately."

The woman nodded her head and then left, disappearing in the shadows of the dark and dirty alley. Rowena made sure her sapphire gown was well covered by the commoner's cloak before emerging onto the rundown street the alley branched off of. Looking around to make sure that no one had noticed her sudden appearance, she began walking down the street once she was certain that no one had given her a second glance.

As she made her way around the dirty carts selling muggle repelling jewelry and faulty wizard games for children, Rowena suddenly felt a hand on her arm. She looked up in surprise to see a familiar face.

"This is a lovely wedding," Gryfindor said, his face stony and devoid of emotion. "Is that why you miss so many council meetings? You're busy making yourself feel better by helping the poor?"

Rowena struggled to remove his hand, but Gryffindor's grasp was both strong and gentle; she was unable to break the hold but it was not tight.

"What are you doing here?" she asked fiercely, looking up to glare at him.

"I think the better question, Lady Ravenclaw," he said, refusing to make eye contact and choosing instead to keep his gaze strictly on the road, "is what are _you_ doing here? A reputable young lady such as yourself has no business in this part of London."

Rowena set her jaw and turned to face the grimy street as he was doing, resigned to walking and talking with the hulking structure of a man beside her. "I do business with the unfortunate. And it is _not_ to make myself feel better about myself," she spat, clenching her small hands into fists. "I believe every person has the right to proper medicine."

"Well then, I guess the entitled little Lady has morals," Gryffindor chuckled. "And how did you come across that in your privileged upbringing?"

"Your Duke Slytherin may have been born into his title, Gryffindor, but my mother was not. She married into it and she has never forgotten the hardships of an untitled life. Perhaps you can relate. Now, I'll ask you again: what are you doing here?"

"Protecting you."

Rowena blanched and stumbled, but Gryffindor's steady hand rebalanced her quickly. "Protecting me? I don't need protection."

"Have you noticed the man following you?" Gryffindor asked. "The man in the black cloak and the uneven gait?"

Rowena sighed. "Does he have a sword under that cloak?"

"I wouldn't know. Should I check?"

"That's Francis. He's the guard my mother hired to protect me," Rowena quipped, finally pulling her arm away from the knight beside her. "I _don't_ need protection. Francis is equipped to deal with anything that may harm me and I am more than capable myself anyways."

"That's what I told Duke Slytherin, but he seems to have developed an interest in you and hopes for your wellbeing," Gryffindor hissed, suddenly pulling Rowena to the right side of the street as a group of truants burst out of a rundown shop followed by the angry store owner, a burly man brandishing a wand and swearing to high heavens. "And obviously the places you frequent are not the safest."

Rowena stopped walking and placed her hand on Gryffindor's shoulder, smiling politely. "Thank you, Gryffindor, for your protection, but I must bid you farewell. I cannot work with someone beside me; my clients will not trust me if a man with a sharp weapon is at my side."

"And Francis?" Gryffindor inquired, crossing his arms.

"Francis keeps his distance," Rowena explained, tucking a stray strand of inky black hair behind her left ear. "And besides, I can keep myself out of harm."

"If you are certain," Gryffindor began uncertainly.

Rowena smiled sweetly and nodded. "I am. Now please leave me to my business."

Gryffindor nodded and turned, his dark cloak sweeping across the dirty stones. Rowena watched him as he stalked away, his tall form making those he approached shrink back in fear. There was something to be admired about a man so intimidating even the scariest man on the block remained in the shadows instead of pouncing like he normally did. Rowena watched as Robert Knockturn surveyed the man leaving the dark alleyway, his figure shrunken as though Robert wished to stay hidden from view. Rowena kept her gaze locked on the dark man as he stood up from leaning against the dark wall of the apothecary and began to walk down the street towards her. A small smirk was just visible under the hood of the dark cloak that hid his lean muscular form.

As Robert made his way towards her, Rowena felt the ends of her mouth rise up, completely out of her control. He finally reached her and she just managed not to throw herself at him as she wrapped him in an embrace. Robert's arms snaked around Rowena's waist and pulled her closer, the muscles in his arms contracting tight as he held her close, almost to the point of hurting her. When Rowena finally pulled away, she smiled and took off Robert's hood, caressing his face with her small and gentle fingers.

"My dear friend," she said quietly, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek, "it has been too long."

Robert smiled and cupped her cheek in his large hand. "I know. But you are here now. Tell me, darling, what of that man in your company today?"

"Gryffindor?" Rowena asked innocently, adding a bat of her eyelashes for good measure. "Now Robert, there's no need to be getting jealous. He's… ah… hired protection from a mutual acquaintance. I've begun business transactions other than what I do here, and it seems that my fellows are not accustomed to the ways of your alley."

Robert laughed then, a loud guffaw echoing around the dingy street. Vendors who normally never looked anyone in the eye began to crack a smile. Such was the power of Robert Knockturn; he was intimidating to most with his jet black hair and dark eyes, but a smile from him was infectious. Rowena could not remember the last time the alley was in such good hands. Robert ran the alley as if it were an unwanted legitimate child: he would let it run itself until it got too unruly in which case he would take the time to visit those causing the problem and personally deal with them.

To Rowena, her analogy was quite humorous, considering Robert was a bastard, born out of wedlock to a witch not unlike the ones that patrolled this street in search of a few coins to buy food, and a wizard who was already wed to another. His name derived from the keeper of the orphanage stationed at the end of the alley, a Mr. Samuel Knockturn, a man grouchy and horrid to anyone whom he didn't like, but positively a delight to the children in his care.

Robert had always been fond of Mr. Knockturn and the orphanage, and as Robert pulled away from her she noticed that another small silver coin had been laced onto the iron chain around his neck. A young boy at the orphanage, Sebastian, had taken a liking to Robert, and he to him. Sebastian adored Robert and always managed to find small coins that he believed Robert would like. In turn, the tall man would keep them on a chain that was always at his neck, and Rowena could not count the times she had seen his hand flinch up towards the bauble as if he was somehow afraid of losing it.

"I see that you're eying my chain, dear Rowena," Robert suddenly muttered, jerking the young lady out of her reverie.

Rowena blushed fiercely and looked up to meet Robert's sharp eyes. "You grow very fond of the boy. I fear that soon it shall cloud your judgement."

Robert smiled again, a long line of crooked teeth making up something that couldn't possibly be so amazing. "And I suppose my affection towards you shall do the same?"

"I fear that it shall, my dear friend. Now I must go, darling Robert. Should your cough come back when the weather grows cold again," Rowena said, staring pointedly at the man in front of her, "do not hesitate to tell me. Heavens knows we do not want a repeat of last time."

"Would that be the time I spent a moon in bed, being nursed by your kindly self and your mother, or the time I was raving mad for a fortnight, consumed by the fever of the cold cough?"

Rowena laughed. "Neither. It was the time you were violently sick after contracting that nearly deadly stomach virus. I just thank my blessings that your utterly ridiculous coughing may tell us when you may be excessively ill."

"And I thank my blessings every day for you, Lady Rowena," Robert said as he mimed a tip of a hat. "I shall let you carry about your business, dear friend, and remind me not to hurt your mutual friend's acquaintance should he ever come back. I may forget."

"And perhaps I shall let you," Rowena mused, a twinkle in her eye. "Good day, Robert. Fare well and I hope to see you before the next moon."

"As do I, Lady Rowena."

As Robert walked away, his steady gait making the cobbled stones of the street beneath his feet click incessantly, Rowena could not help but smile. Through these horrible times, at least she had Robert if no one else. She sighed and turned to look at the other end of the alley. She still had quite a day's work to continue.

******************************

Rowena stalked through the alley, her footsteps quick and precise. She only had enough time to drop off a vial of medicine with Mr. Knockturn before leaving to meet with Duke Slytherin and talk about the potential of a school in Scotland. As she saw the old man, hunched over as if a sack of potatoes was resting on his back, she quickened her pace and nearly tripped on her skirts as she reached him.

"The medicine for the children," she gasped, all but throwing it at the poor man. Then, rummaging through her bag, she let out a breathy, "And something for you too." Rowena pulled a small jar of salve from the small wristlet she carried (a handy charm had expanded it on the inside thankfully), and handed it to Mr. Knockturn, smiling as she did so. "Rub that on your back daily until the salve runs out. Hopefully it should soothe the pain."

The old man smiled his crooked smile, so like Robert that it made Rowena question Robert's parentage, even though she knew exactly who his father was. It was just the fact that Robert had grown up with old man, and thus carried some of his traits.

"Darling little Rowena," Mr. Knockturn said, slowly reaching forward with a trembling and wrinkled hand to pat her on the cheek, "whatever would I do without you?"

Rowena smiled and put her hand on his. "Well, we won't ever think about it because I'll always be here for you and the children."

Mr. Knockturn coughed and nodded. "You are much too kind to an old man such as myself. Go on now, I know you have more interesting things to do than to exchange pleasantries with me."

"More productive things, perhaps," Rowena stated quickly, wrapping her cloak around her a little tighter as a blast of cold wind made its way through the alley, "but never more interesting than you, Mr. Knockturn."

"Oh, don't flatter me, girl," Mr. Knockturn chided, though his easy smile and twinkling eyes held none of the harshness his tone expressed. "Now go on. I won't tell you again."

Rowena smiled and turned, dashing down the street and around vendors every few feet. She had promised to meet Duke Slytherin at this time, forgetting that the Knockturn children needed medicine as a harsh cough was circulating around the orphanage. Just as she was about to apparate out of the alley though, a large hand grabbed her by the upper arm and dragged her into a darker and smaller alley off of the main one.

At first she thought it was Robert, but even with his large hands, he had never grabbed her that hard. Her next thought was of Gryffindor, but again, his grasp, though firm, was never that tight. She began to struggle with her assailant, but the brute strength of a man his size would be able to overpower her slight stature any day. Yet as she attempted escape, she brought his face closer to the only light, as dim as it was. When his features were finally defined in the yellow gaze of the flickering lamp, she felt her stomach drop.

It was Lord Bennett.


End file.
